


The Ties that Bind

by karasunovolleygays



Series: Valentine's Kisses 2020 [14]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Current Manga Spoilers, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, Police Officer Sawamura Daichi, death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22293937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunovolleygays/pseuds/karasunovolleygays
Summary: Sometimes death in its ugliest form reminds the living of what really matters.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Sawamura Daichi
Series: Valentine's Kisses 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589239
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	The Ties that Bind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jadehqknb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadehqknb/gifts).



> This was written for my 2020 Valentine's Kisses series: 15. A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.

Hajime tucks the last tail end of the plastic wrap around the plate he’s had waiting for Daichi for the past hour and a half, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he slides it into the refrigerator.

It isn’t like Daichi to come home so late. Even when he is up to his eyeballs in work and can’t make it home until the wee hours of the morning, he always calls or sends a text. It’s not as if Hajime needs a play by play of what his partner is doing with his time; he just needs to know that Daichi, a ten year veteran of the Sendai police force, is all right.

His shoulders tense when the door lock clicks to life and admits a drooping, weary Daichi. The confident spring in his step is nonexistent, replaced by dirt and who-knows-what smeared all over his uniform.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Hajime rushes across the room to help Daichi shed his jacket and loosen his mangled tie. “You look like you lost a fight with a windmill, Sawamura.”

Daichi’s wide brown eyes meet his for a moment before drifting down to the floor. “I wish.”

Hajime inhales sharply. Now he has a good idea what is eating at Daichi. There is only one reason he ever gets like this; Hajime nearly forgets because it has only happened twice before. 

Someone had died under his watch.

“I’m sorry, babe. You wanna talk about it?” Daichi shakes his head. “You feel like eating?” Negative once again. “You wanna take a shower?”

This finally elicits a positive response, and Hajime ushers Daichi shoes and all through the apartment to the bathroom. Robotic limbs shed Daichi of his clothing, and he steps into the steaming shower with Hajime as instructed. 

Gaze constantly straying up to make sure Daichi isn’t trying to drown himself with the spray nozzle, Hajime gently scrubs away streaks of dirt gouged into the scratches that litter Daichi’s arms and legs. “Oh my god,” he murmurs when a particularly nasty one reveals itself on Daichi’s shoulder blade.

Clean and bundled in a bathrobe, Daichi follows Hajime’s lead once again until they’re both nestled atop the covers of their bed. 

Finally, Daichi breaks his silence. “She was only six,” he croaks, voice crackling with raw pain Hajime can barely associate with his partner of almost seven years. 

“Shit, it was a kid?” Hajime bites his lip and holds Daichi closer. “Sorry that happened, Daichi, but you have to know it wasn’t your fault.”

Daichi nods against Hajime’s shoulder. “Yeah, but it’s hard to swallow when you find a little girl crammed in a storm drain.”

Hajime shivers at the blunt descriptor and closes his eyes. “Whatever you need, I’m here, okay?”

“I know.” Daichi lays silently in Hajime’s embrace, soon overcome with the weight of his day and finally able to sleep.

Throughout the night, Hajime gives up on sleep altogether. He can’t stop listening to the fitful sounds of Daichi tossing and turning — something he never does unless he’s distressed. 

It’s just before dawn when Hajime shakes off his own fitful slumber to an empty bed. “Huh?”

The bedroom door is open, and through it, he can see Daichi at the kitchen table, slumped on an arm with the remnants of the previous night’s leftovers on a plate in front of him. With a noisy yawn, Hajime pads out to the kitchen and clears the plate away.

He drapes his arms over Daichi’s shoulders and rests his chin on the crown of Daichi’s head. “I wish I knew what to say.” Lips press a kiss into the center of Hajime’s palm, and he feels Daichi’s entire body shudder with a sigh. “Gimme a minute, babe. I’m gonna call a sub.”

“You don’t —”

“I know,” Hajime interjects. “But I want to.”

Daichi doesn’t protest, and Hajime knows he doesn’t want to. 

It only takes a couple of calls for Hajime to find someone to cover for him at school for the day. The volleyball team will miss their coach, so he sends a text to the basketball coach to cancel practice. In under ten minutes, Hajime is sitting next to Daichi with a hand resting on the top of his thigh.

It’s a regular day off for Daichi, but even had it not been, his lieutenant would have given him a reprieve anyway. So Hajime scares up the fattiest, most decadent breakfast he can muster and Daichi slowly but surely comes to life again.

The rest of the day drags by with them on the couch, slumped into each other and watching whatever happens to be on. It isn’t good, but it’s there. Hajime drifts off curled up against Daichi.

Well into the afternoon, Hajime stumbles awake when Daichi grips him in a fierce embrace. “Damn, babe, I gotta breathe.”

“Thanks for dealing with me being a big baby.” Daichi nuzzles the hollow of Hajime’s shoulder and presses a kiss to the soft flesh of his neck. 

Hajime growls as Daichi’s teeth scrape at his skin. “The way you care about other people is actually sexy as hell, Sawamura. Don’t forget it.” 

“I mean it,” Daichi hisses as he hikes Hajime on top of him. “How did I ever live three quarters of my life without you?”

“Probably eating crap and not in possession of a single clean sock.” Their lips brush together as Hajime settles his knees on either side of Daichi’s lap. “And probably rescuing kittens from trees and helping old ladies cross the street.”

Daichi’s mouth grows slack to argue, only for him to blush and offer a sheepish smile. “Guilty as charged.”

Hajime rolls his hips and swallows Daichi’s gasp of pleasure with a kiss. “I kinda want to blow you right now, Sawamura.”

He starts when Daichi says, “No.” Daichi’s hand cradles Hajime’s cheek. “I’d rather look at you like this.”

“Keep saying sappy shit like that and you can have anything you want, babe.” Hajime snares Daichi’s lower lip between his teeth and caresses the bite marks with his tongue.

His legs band around Daichi’s waist of their own accord when Daichi hoists him off the couch by his bottom. By the time they stumble through their bedroom door, Hajime’s well worn sleep shirt is already on the floor behind them. 

The mattress dips and springs when the two of them land in a pile on top of it, Daichi’s arms caging Hajime in while his mouth sets to work at the new expanse of tanned skin to explore.

Hajime swears under his breath when Daichi’s teeth teases his hip bone, and he writhes with pure want as Daichi strips him completely. Over the plane of his belly, Hajime watches as Daichi licks a long stripe up the underside of his cock. 

“How do you want it, baby?”

Every cell in his body demands for Daichi to plow him until his ancestors beg for more, but he pauses before he finally says, “Let me take care of you, Daichi.”

With one smooth motion, Hajime flips them over and smirks at Daichi’s yelp of surprise. “It feels like eighty years since we had sex. We don’t make enough time for this.”

Daichi grows quiet, and just about when panic begins to set in that he said the wrong thing, Hajime sees Daichi’s lower lip wobble. “You okay, Daichi?”

Nodding, Daichi strums Hajime’s bottom lip with his thumb. “We really do need to make more time for each other, don’t we?” He lets out a shaking breath. “No telling what the future might bring.”

“Can’t agree more.” Hajime kisses Daichi breathless before peeling off Daichi’s pajamas, nipping and sucking at all the places time and practice have told him drives Daichi wild. 

Under Hajime’s hands, Daichi’s previous funk melts away, leaving whispered adulation in its wake. His whole body comes to life as Hajime works Daichi open and buries himself inside.

Panting from the sensation, Daichi clings to Hajime and buries his face in the hollow of Hajime’s shoulder. Something wet dribbles down his collarbone, and Hajime’s eyes widen when he realizes they’re tears. His attention immediately snaps to his partner. “Baby, are you sure you’re up for this?”

Daichi chortles as he dashes the twin wet rivulets from his cheeks. “Very sure. Sometimes, I just forget how much I love you, but when I remember, it’s like being dropkicked by a gorilla.”

“Hey!” Hajime slaps Daichi’s bare ass cheek and wrinkles his nose. “You’re the gorilla here, not me, you hairy son of a bitch.” Fingers trail through the wiry patch of hair on Daichi’s chest. “You want me to do this or not?”

Face slipping into a mask of seriousness, Daichi nods and leans into Hajime so his body can accept everything Hajime wants to tell him and more.

Their limbs tangle together afterward, and Hajime doesn’t bother rolling over to his own side of the bed. Or moving at all, for that matter, until the loud rumble of empty stomachs lure them back into the kitchen.

Dinner is quiet, but not the terse, strained kind breakfast had been. It’s a companionable silence, much more like the ones they share when things are dangerously close to normal.

That evening, Hajime burrows under Daichi’s arm and hums in contentment.

Finally, Daichi starts to talk. The events of the previous day ooze out of him like a lanced wound, and when the last choked syllable dies in the far corners of the room, Hajime knows that Daichi’s heart, almost too big for its own good, can finally start to heal.


End file.
